Would You?
by Mittens no Hikari
Summary: [Oneshot] A short, sweet look at the romance that slowly blossoms between Yugi and Serenity.


_A/N: A brief little one-shot that's been flitting around in my brain for some time now. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated, whether positive, critical, or critically positive (though, as a rule, I don't tend to enjoy those that are positively critical as much)._

Disclaimer: Never have. Don't now. Never will.

**Would you?**

_A romance in questions_

"Would you?"

She could barely believe her ears. She wouldn't have, if it hadn't been for her eyes telling her the exact same thing. She fought the insane urge to giggle hysterically or to throw her arms around his neck.

"Serenity? Would you?" Yugi's voice trailed off as he looked reflexively down at the paper he clutched in his slim hand, nervousness emanating from his violet eyes despite his carefully guarded expression. Dazedly, she took note of the fact that the Millennium Puzzle was not currently in its usual resting place around Yugi's neck; he must have taken it off because of—fear? Shyness?

Mentally Serenity slapped herself back to her senses and again took in those words on the thick, cream-colored sheet of paper. _Senior Prom._ She could feel her face heating up as a giddy blush spread across her cheeks. When she looked up from the paper again, she saw the question in his eyes.

* * *

"Will you?"

Yugi couldn't believe he was blushing. Honestly, he was out of high school. There should be a law or something saying that college students didn't blush anymore, especially when it made them look even more like a little kid.

Serenity tilted her head to one side beseechingly, her big gray-green eyes glimmering with a peculiar mixture of hope and dread. Her hand shook slightly as she held the familiar sheet of parchment paper on which the familiar words were emblazoned.

Briefly, Yugi experienced a moment of déjà vu. This was almost exactly like that afternoon years ago, when he'd held the paper in his own trembling hand while asking Serenity to the very same dance.

* * *

"Can I?"

Serenity's voice was harsh and choked with tears; it cracked before she could finish her question, and her eyes blurred sharply with hot tears. She swallowed painfully, biting back a sob and roughly swiping her forearm across her face, clearing her vision enough that she could see Yugi's silhouetted figure, swaying on its feet in the darkened warehouse.

For a moment, she thought maybe he still hadn't heard her. But then he glanced behind him in a way that assured her repeating the question was unnecessary. He'd heard her, all right. The question was whether or not he planned on answering.

When the tiny shaft of light from the boarded-up window touched his face, slashing diagonally across his cheekbones, Serenity gave up on waiting for an answer. She staggered in a panic from her hiding place, ignoring the violet eyes that implored her to stay concealed until they were sure it was safe. With her fingertips, she gently wiped a trickle of blood from his forehead, her touch feather-light. He stood there, serene, his face tense with pain but his weary smile communicating clearly that he was happy to have protected her, no matter what.

* * *

"Is he...?"

Hot tears flooded down Yugi's face, though he didn't even notice. All that he could see was the sympathetic face of the doctor in front of him, mouth taut with sadness and regret and glasses askew.

Holding onto his clipboard tightly so as not to have to find something else to do with his hands, the older man shook his head. Behind him, a young nurse reached out as if to touch Yugi's shoulder in sympathy but stopped when a shudder wracked his body. He staggered backwards, face white as the hospital walls around him. His head spun, and the room began to swirl dangerously around him as his mind screamed, _screamed_ for his grandfather to come back. Yami was silent, himself too deep in mourning to be of much comfort, and Yugi's cries reverberated hollowly and heartbreakingly off the shattered fragments of his heart.

When he felt familiar arms around him and smelled that well-known, comforting scent that was a mixture of roses, shampoo, and something else he couldn't name, he didn't struggle. Instead, he let Serenity hold him as he pressed his face into her shoulder, her long chestnut hair tickling the back of his neck, and broke down, the rest of his question to be forever unasked.

* * *

"Could I?"

Joey knew he shouldn't be so shocked. After all, it made logical sense. They'd been together for such a long time. Still, his sister—his _baby_ sister—and his friend, who, despite a few extra inches and a few more years, still had those huge violet eyes and that gentle, sweet face that made him look like he was still in high school—he couldn't wrap his mind around even the _question_, let alone the answer he would give.

And he knew, even as he tried valiantly to close his mouth and make something else come out of his throat besides incomprehensible garbled noises, what that answer would be. Truth be told, if Serenity _had_ to get married—if his little sis _had_ to grow up and find a new life—he wouldn't pick any guy other than the fiery kid who'd been his best friend for—well, if not for forever, than practically so.

When a fly nearly buzzed into his mouth, Joey finally found the motivation to snap his jaw shut. His dark eyes softened and a small smile crept across his face. With a long, wistful sigh, he prepared himself to give his best friend the permission he'd asked for. And when he had to wipe his sleeve quickly across his eyes, he blamed it on the dust in the air.

* * *

"Would you?"

Joy. Pure, unadulterated, unmarred joy. She felt a sudden rush of lightheadedness—no, it wasn't just her _head_. Her entire body felt as though a passing breeze would lift her up and carry her off, but she didn't want that to happen simply because that would take her away from the man she loved so much who was waiting on bended knee before her.

The scarlet-orange light from the setting sun sparkled off the multi-faceted diamond, causing red-gold shadows to dance waveringly across the white velvet of the tiny jewelry box. Serenity opened her mouth to answer and tasted salt, and it was only then she realized that she was crying. Dimly, she realized she really ought to reassure Yugi that her tears were happy ones, but her throat simply wouldn't obey her (admittedly halfhearted) commands to pay attention to her brain. Her eyes flickered to the hopeful face and frightened eyes behind the diamond ring.

Maybe it was her imagination, and maybe it was the fact she was in love, but that face and those eyes seemed to her to shine more brightly than the jewelry.

* * *

"Can you?"

Téa tried not to giggle like a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl. It was more difficult than she'd thought it would be.

She threw a careless glance at the calendar on her wall, disregarding the scrawls that filled nearly every day in that particular month. Dance classes be darned. Your two best friends only get married to one another once in a lifetime.

She turned her attention back to the phone that she had cradled between her shoulder and chin. She could hear Serenity's abbreviated breathing at the other end of the line as the younger woman awaited her answer.

Those two were meant for each other. Téa felt a ridiculously silly smile spread from ear to ear across her face. The sore muscles from ballet disappeared entirely in light of this new and much-more-important development. They'd been meant for each other since the day they met, and finally—_finally_—the rest of the world would know it too.

Serenity needed a maid of honor? She'd get one.

* * *

"Will you?"

Serenity hadn't felt this way since final examinations in college. Honestly, it was as if one wrong word would mean the end of her future. Only this time, she wasn't answering questions about Japanese history, advanced calculus, or great works of Russian literature. She was answering questions about the love of her life.

And, of course, there was the small fact that instead of facing a bespectacled college professor, she was facing a semi-transparent ancient Egyptian spirit.

She knew that Yami wasn't asking her to put herself in danger—he'd never do that. She also knew, though, that he was deadly serious in his request that she protect Yugi if or when he could not. Thankfully, Yugi himself was out of the room; otherwise, he would not have been happy about what the spirit was requesting of his fiancée.

That didn't, however, make the answer any less obvious.

* * *

"Should I?"

She was afraid to open her eyes. If she did, it might all turn out to be a dream—a blissful, beautiful dream, but a dream nonetheless. How could she be sure that she'd look up to see a reflection of herself in a white gown and veil instead of the blank ceiling of her bedroom slowly swimming into view?

Behind her, there was silence. Téa and Mai were still there—she could hear them breathing—but they weren't planning on answering her. She could tell.

Obviously, she'd have to make the choice to open her eyes herself.

* * *

"Is she?"

Yugi fidgeted nervously, pulling distractedly at the collar of his black tuxedo. The Millennium Puzzle hung securely around his neck, and its occupant sat watching his other half with an amused half-smile.

Yami had watched his light grow from a young boy into the man he was now. He'd been through a lot—beneath that black jacket, Yami knew the scars were there to prove just how much. His nose was endearingly crooked, the result of having been broken three separate times. The smile was as gentle and bright as ever, despite the long, thin scar that ran almost invisibly from his left ear all the way along his jaw to stop at the left side of his chin. The hair was as wildly unpredictable as it had been when they'd first met, the frame as slim and nearly as short, and the eyes as clear and brilliant as the day Serenity had said 'yes'.

Yami smiled, more broadly this time. He was proud, though a little saddened as well. True, he felt as though he was giving away a piece of himself.

But they still had their connection, and that was enough.

Snapping himself out of the daydreams, he trained his eyes back on Yugi's frantic face. Was Serenity ready? Yugi's eyes still desperately telegrammed the question.

When the music began to play, however, Yami figured that was all the reassurance his light needed.

* * *

"Do you?"

This was it. The question.

For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part.

Did she?

Serenity smiled.

"I do."

* * *

_Fin_

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* * *

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Well? What'd you think? Let me know! If I get a sense that this was enjoyed, perhaps I'll keep writing (though I'm busy preparing for college this fall. AAH!).

Thanks to all of you!

Fondly,

The Authoress


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